Q & A
by Evey Edge
Summary: Two weeks after Liz learns the truth about Tom, she gets a phone call from Red asking her to meet her in an abandoned warehouse. Red's arranged to meet an informant for some Q & A and he'd like Liz's help with the interview. She is in for a surprise when the informant turns out to be the man formerly known as Tom Keen. Probably AU after 1x18. *WARNING: THIS IS TOM FRIENDLY*.
1. Late Night Phone Call (Liz's POV)

Liz couldn't sleep. She was exhausted, having spent the day chasing yet any other insanely dangerous blacklister, but still, she couldn't sleep. She hadn't slept in two weeks, not since her unsuccessful sting operation that had led to Tom's escape.

He could be anywhere in the world right now, doing God knows what to God knows who. Maybe he was already on another assignment. Maybe he was murdering someone at this very moment. Maybe he was on a first date with some poor unsuspecting woman who was already falling in love with him. Maybe he was just sleeping an untroubled sleep, with thoughts of her far from his mind. If only she could be as free of him.

At work things were better, always moving, no time to dwell on what waited for her at home, or rather what no longer waited for her at home. There were exceptions, like today, when she'd caught Ressler looking at her with pity. He'd invited her out for a drink, but she'd declined. His loss was so different from hers. He couldn't possibly understand what she was going through.

She found herself wishing that Tom had died during Zamani's attack. If he had, she would have been decimated, but at least she never would have learned the truth. She hadn't just lost her husband; he had never existed in the first place. Three years of memories had become painful reminders of how foolish she'd been. The man she'd pledged her life to hadn't loved her at all.

Liz's phone buzzed on her bedside table. She picked it up, answered, "Keen" and winced as she had for the past fourteen days. She was petitioning to get her name changed back to Scott, but apparently "such things took time".

"Lizzie. I apologize for the late hour, but I need to see you. I'm texting you the address." Red hung up before Liz had a chance to respond. It must have been important. Usually Red was more polite.

In thirty minutes time Liz was dressed and standing in an abandon warehouse. It was empty save Red, Dembe, and three folding chairs.

"Lizzie. Thank you for coming. Are you armed right now?" It was a strange question for Reddington to ask, but Liz hoped if she played along she'd get some answers.

"Of course." She kept her weapon on her at all times these days. It had become abundantly clear that nowhere was truly safe.

"I'm going to ask that you surrender your gun and your phone to Dembe. We have a guest coming and he is a little jumpy about such things." A guest? Her eyes drifted to the three chairs. Red had brought her to meet an informant?

"What kind of guest?" It must have been someone unusual if they'd only meet in the middle of night. Then again when were Red's informants NOT unusual.

"The kind that will provide crucial information about your husband. If you don't feel it's worth the risk I can meet with him myself." It was a tough call. Standard procedure said that an FBI agent never relinquishes her weapon. Then again she wasn't exactly on the clock.

"Do you trust him?" There were many things she didn't know about Reddington, but one of the few that she did was that he'd never put her in a situation where he could protect her.

"If you stay I promise I won't let anything happen to you." Not a direct answer, but when the prize was information on Tom, it was worth the risk. Liz passed Dembe her cell and gun.

"Thank you Dembe. If you could go a meet our guest at the back door?" Dembe returned thirty seconds later, escorting a tall dark haired man in a hoody and jean. Liz's hands balled in to fist. Somewhere in a remote part of her mind she wondered if she was still home in bed, having a nightmare. No, pain of the fingernails digging into her palm was very real.

"Hi Lizzie." Without a word Liz launched herself out of her chair and ran straight for the man formerly known as Tom Keen.


	2. Hard Truths (Tom's POV)

Reddington's bodyguard intercepted Liz before she had a chance to tackle him, or scratch his eyes out or whatever physical punishment she'd been planning by way of greeting. He couldn't say he was surprised; she had every reason to be angry. On second thought, Tom wasn't sure "angry" covered the depth of the fire burning in her eyes. "Enraged" might have been a better choice of words.

"Let go of me!" The large black man had at least eighty pounds on Liz, but Tom could see she was making him work to keep hold of her.

"Lizzie, Dembe will release you as soon as you calm down." Lizzie. For a moment he was distracted by Red's use of his wife nickname. Liz had only ever permitted her father and himself to use it. Now that privilege also extended to Reddington.

"Calm down?! This is your informant?!" Reddington remained unruffled in the storm of Liz's fury. Tom wondered how many time Liz's wraith had been directed at him.

"Who better to provide the information that we both seek?" Liz's struggle seemed to lose its fervor. She still twisted half-heartedly, but Tom could tell she was considering Reddington's words. Perhaps this was the moment to offer some kind of apology. Not that he imagine a single thing that he could say that would heal the pain she was suffering though because of him.

"Lizzie-" The word had barely left his mouth before Liz him off.

"Do not call me Lizzie, you son of a bitch! My husband calls me Lizzie. You are not my husband!" Liz threw her palms to the floor and her hips back, freeing herself from Dembe's hold. She glared at Tom, breathing heavily for a minute, but she made no move to attack.

"I ask the questions, you answer them. That's it. Understand?" Tom nodded his assent, not wanting to re-ignite her rage by speaking. Her words echoed inside his ear. He was not her husband any more.

"Well now that that's settled, shall we sit?" Slowly, and cautiously Lizzie moved to take the seat offered by Reddington. The two of them sat nearly side by side, while his chair was much further away. In a way it reminded Tom of when Detectives Dabarros has visited his home. The detective had sat in a chair across the room and he and Lizzie had taken the coach. Before He and Lizzie had been the team, united facing the stranger. Now it was Reddington and Lizzie and he was the outsider. Tom sat, resigned to his new place in this changed world.

"Who do you work for?" Tom glanced at Reddington before answering this first question. The relationship between Berlin and Red was definitely adversarial, but beyond that Tom wasn't sure what the exact history was. Tom had been carefully monitoring Liz's cases and certain names had popped out at him. The Freelancer, Fredrick Barnes, Gina Zanetakos, Wujing, and The Alchemist all worked for or have done business with Berlin over the last five years. Not every case tied back Tom's former employers, but it was enough for Tom to see the pattern. Reddington was declaring war.

"An international organization based in Berlin. It's made up of criminals and former spies. They deal in intelligence, weapons, and assassinations. It doesn't have a name, just a symbol." Tom's eyes drifted to Liz's wrist where she was unconsciously rubbing her scar as she always did when she was stressed. He remembered the first time he'd seen Liz's scar. They'd been out on their first date. She'd been wearing a simple blue dress with a thin silver necklace. She been so beautiful, not that he'd allowed himself to really enjoy. He'd still been under the delusion he could do his job and remain detached.

"A symbol? What symbol?" Liz's voice brought him back to the present. He gestured to her arm.

"The scar on your wrist. Does it look familiar?" Liz frowned and pulled down her shelve. She traced a finger over the pattern and looked back up at him, a realization dawning in her eyes.

"The box. YOUR box. Why do I have their symbol on my wrist?" A question Tom had no answer to. He asked about it on that first date and she'd become uncomfortable and changed the subject. He'd told himself that it was too soon, that he'd ask again with their relationship became more solid. Except of course he never had. Liz had never brought it up and the more Tom came to know Liz, the less he wanted an answer.

He'd never been given any orders specifically related to the scar and eventually the thought occurred to him that perhaps the reason Berlin never asked was because they didn't know it existed. His orders regarding Liz made it seem that she was only of tangential interest to Berlin, through her connection with Reddington. That scar provided a direct link between Liz and the dangerous people he worked for. His deception was low risk. If anyone asked he could claim he'd assumed Berlin already knew and Tom had simply not been read-in. That had been the first time he'd made a choice to protect Liz. It hadn't been the last.

"I don't know. You should ask whoever gave it to you." Tom registered pain in Liz's eyes before they once again became shuttered. Her reaction had given him the answer he'd been avoiding for years. It had been Sam Holland. Tom had liked his father-in-law. He'd been an easy-going man, quick to laugh, and very loving to his adoptive daughter. It was hard to imagine him holding Liz down and burning Berlin's symbol into her arm. Then again he supposed that Sam had his secrets.

Sam had adopted Liz when she was four and he was still living Baltimore. He'd been 37 years old, single. Former Army Ranger working for a company that sold office supplies. Tom hadn't been able to find a tangible Reddington, yet connected they were if only through Liz. Had it been chance that Sam had chosen to adopt Liz or had Sam been chosen by Reddington? What had Sam known?

"What was your mission?" He reminded himself to be as clinical as possible. If he appeared apologetic, not only would she not believe him, but she suspect of trying to manipulate her.

"I was assigned to get close to you, earn your trust while investigating your connection to Raymond Reddington." Good that sounded simple. It was the same job he'd done a hundred times before. How had things gotten so complicated?

"We met over two years before I started working with Red." That question told Tom a lot about Liz's relationship with Reddington. He might call her Lizzie and she might use his nickname, but Reddington was still keeping his secrets.

"But, he's been in your life for much longer than that, isn't that right, Reddington?" It felt unfair that he should be bearing the full force of Liz's ire when the man she was sitting next to was hiding as many, if not more, secrets than Tom was.

"Why don't you tell her what you found? I'm dying to hear what all that detective work uncovered." Reddington was clearly confident in his ability to cover his tracks.

"Your paths have crossed at key points over the past twenty years. He was funneling money to your father for years." For the first time during the interview Liz took her eyes off Tom and put them on Reddington.

"Is that true?" Tom noticed that when she addressed Reddington her words lost the sharp edge they had when they were aimed at him.

"Yes. I doubt it's much of a surprise to you. You already suspected I knew Sam." Why had she suspected that? Had she tracked Red's movements on the day of her father's death? Did she know he was at the hospital when Sam had died? Did she suspect, as Tom did, that that wasn't a coincidence?

"Why are you here? Why are you telling us any of this?" There were so many ways to answer that question. The path that had lead him here was long and winding, and even he didn't know exactly where it began. He knew it had something to do with cold spaghetti, walks with Hudson, and slow Sunday mornings, but he also knew that wasn't an answer she was ready to hear. Instead Tom gave her a response she might actually accept.

"Berlin and I have reached a parting of ways. Reddington promised me cash and a safe exit out of the country." It was the truth, if an incomplete truth.

"Why you? Why were you put on this assignment?" Tom's mind returned to the room where they'd grilled him for hours on everything relating Elizabeth Scott. He'd memorized everything from her favorite childhood toy to her favorite sexual position. God knows how they'd gotten the later piece of intelligence. They tested him on his potential approaches, his chosen legend, how he'd reaction in any given situation. They made him profile her, her dreams, her fears, and her desires. His answers must have been satisfactory, because of all the candidates they'd picked him.

"Because they choose me for it." Liz seemed dissatisfied with his answer, but what did she want him to say?

"Out of how many? How many men auditioned to be my husband? 2? 3?" The competition had been a little more steep then that. It had been a relatively low risk assignment with the added bonus of sex with a beautiful woman. The high pay had just been icing on the cake.

"I don't know exactly." He wondered how life would have been different for the both of them, if Berlin had chosen someone else.

"Guess."

"A few dozen." Former spies, con men. Mid-twenties to mid-thirties. Attractive. Of course none of them had known exactly how long term the assignment would be. Some of the others might have taken themselves out of contention if they'd realized the full extent of their potential duties. Seducing someone into a brief affair was one thing. Marrying them and living the lie day in and day out was another. Which of the others would have had his commitment?

"Out of all of them, why did they pick you?" That was something Tom had wondered himself many times over the past few years. He was good, but many of the others had been equally good. It made him wonder, given what had happened, that they'd seen something in him, something that made them think he was best suited for the role of Liz's husband. Something that years later had made them doubt whether or not they could still trust him.

"I've always be good at reading people." Right now for example he could see that Liz's was nearing her breaking point. All the anger, the pain, the hurt was starting to bubble toward the surface.

"How did you do it? I'm a trained FBI profiler. We've lived together for over two years. How did you hide it from me? How did I not know! How did I not even sense it?" He knew that Liz would have this question for him and he had considered long and hard how he was going to answer. Six months ago he would have said it was that she couldn't see it because she too close, or that she couldn't see the darkness in others, because she had none within herself. Except now he knew that wasn't true. He knew a secret Liz herself did not know and now it was time to share it with her, whether or not she wanted to hear it.

"You did sense it. Deep down, you've always known." Liz's eyes went wide at his accusation, but Reddington only raised an eyebrow. Perhaps Tom wasn't the only one to have this revelation about Liz.

"Bullshit." She didn't believe him, not yet. But perhaps he could change that.

"No it's not. There is a difference, Liz, between what you think you want and what you actually want." It had been so frustrating being Tom Keen these last few months. All the plans they'd made based on what Liz claimed to want had fallen to pieces and he hadn't been able to understand why.

"What the hell does that mean?" If she wanted evidence all she had to do was examine her choices over the past few months.

"Liz, your home was invaded, and your husband stabbed. Cameras were put up in our house, and you've nearly died a half dozen times. Yet when I asked to move to Nebraska, you didn't want to go. You wouldn't quit your job, not for yourself, not for the husband that you supposedly loved, and the baby you supposedly wanted. The truth, Liz, is that you don't want safe and boring." Dembe didn't move quickly enough to save him from Liz's slap. He could have blocked her, if he'd wanted to, but after everything he supposed he deserved it.

"How dare you make this my fault! You lied to me! You tricked me!" Liz raised her hand to wallop him again, and again Tom made no move to stop her. If this was how she needed to deal with the pain he'd caused her, so be it.

"Lizzie, that's enough." Tom was frankly astonished by Reddington's intervention. This was the same man who only months before had him speared like a wild boar. Tom wondered where this sudden concern had come from.

"Do you agree with him?" Lizzie sounded incredulous. She was probably spinning from Red's sudden reversal.

"I don't think you want me to answer that question." Which of course was all the answer Liz needed to hear.

"You do." Her voice had become soft, vulnerable and full of hurt. She saw Reddington's agreement as a person betrayal.

"Lizzie, look where you are right now. An international criminal calls you in the middle of the night and you come running. You surrender your gun without knowing who you're meeting or why. You don't call for backup. You are abnormally attracted to dangerous situations and people. Is it really so surprising that you married a spy?" Liz backed away from both of them, but her eyes stayed on Reddington.

"Why are you taking his side?" Her eyes were full of reproach, like a hurt child unjustly scolded by a parent.

"I'm not. I'm simply helping you understand, because if you don't make sense of this, you'll never be able to trust yourself or anyone else again." It finally dawned on Tom what Reddington was up to. Reddington was grooming Liz for something and whatever it was he'd need Liz to embrace the part of herself that wasn't a cop. He was forcing her to acknowledge her darkness and using him as evidence that it was there.

"Well I've had enough understanding for tonight. I'm leaving." That was probably for the best. Tom wanted to spend some time with Reddington alone. He needed to decide whether or not he needed to kill him.

"Dembe will drive you home." Liz looked from Reddington to Tom and shook her head.

"I don't have a home. Not anymore." Tom's gaze followed Liz as she and 'Dembe' exited the warehouse. When they had gone he turned back to Reddington, who was been watching him with a strange smile on his face.

"Shall we get started?"


	3. The Enemy of My Enemy (Red's POV)

Red regarded Tom with a critical eye. This man had caused him quite a few headaches since he first entered Liz's life. Red had worried about Liz's attachment to her husband long before he'd known that Tom Keen was more than he appeared to be. He'd seen surveillance of them together, and he'd been confused to say the least. Liz's taste in men prior to Tom had indicated a certain attraction to rule breakers. For her to choose a school teacher for a husband was unexpected. His original conclusion was that Liz was fighting her natural impulses in order to create the perfect "normal" family life that had never been hers. He'd been sure the marriage was doomed to failure. Liz's life was never going to be safe and stable enough for an ordinary man. When he'd found out that Tom Keen wasn't an ordinary man and a new host of problems appeared before him.

Learning about the passports Tom Keen had commissioned had been an odd moment for him. Those passports had raised so many questions that the path forward no longer seemed simple. Ultimately he'd chosen to do nothing but watch and wait. It had been hard, seeing Lizzie so happy, so ignorant with a man who was lying to her. He'd hoped that she'd grow bored with Tom Keen's wholesome façade and spare Red the pain of having to one day deliver the painful news, but she hadn't. The adoption had brought yet another element of grief into it. Red had known he'd needed to expose the truth, but being the bearer of such unwelcome news hadn't been an easy job. He suffered through countless accusations, emotional freeze-outs, and a pen in the neck, but at last the truth was known.

When he'd received Tom's phone call, he been surprised. The man was an enigma, and Red had never been able resist a good puzzle. Red had chosen to agree to Tom's proposal, with the caveat that Liz be allowed be at the meet. He'd wanted the answer to the question that had burned in his brain ever since the forger in Russia had contacted him. He now believed he had it.

"What do you want to know?" Tom was brazen, Red had to grant him that. He didn't even try to conceal the contempt in his voice.

"So many things…but I'd like to start with the real reason why you're here." The man was an excellent actor, but Red was convinced Tom's true intentions were completely different from what he'd claimed over the phone.

"I told you: cash, documents, and a way out of the country. That was our deal." A deal almost certainly made in bad faith.

"So it was, but I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around it. Your "brother", Craig choose to throw himself out of a window rather the give-up information on your employer, yet you seem willing to do so for a very reasonable fee and a plane ride." Berlin obviously inspired a great deal of either loyalty or fear. Red strongly suspected the later. It was highly implausible that Tom would turn against them for so slight a temptation as 5 million dollars.

"I don't have any other alternatives. The mission went to hell, thanks to you and they are blaming me." While it might be true that Berlin was displeased with Tom, Red had certain knowledge that Tom had been prepared for such a scenario.

"Be that as it may, you've had an exit strategy in place for at least a year." Tom's face revealed nothing, it was a complete stone mask.

"What are you talking about?" It was uncanny, the ease with which the man lied. No wonder Lizzie had been fooled for so long

"The passports, Tom. The ones you commissioned one year ago. The ones you didn't want Berlin to know about. You were making preparations to flee. I don't mind telling you, Tom, those passports have made me very conflicted about you for quite some time." Tom was silent for a moment and Red could almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he considered, assessed, and then re-assessed.

"Why is that?" He'd chosen not to deny the existence of the passport, and instead replied with a question designed to reveal what Red knew.

"You work for an organization that I intend to wipe from the face of the earth. You have deceived and injured someone I deeply care for, and yet, despite that, I can't help but wonder if our differences can't be overcome by our similarities." As an opponant "Tom Keen" had been a challenge. Red's intitial plan to expose Tom through Gina and the box had failed spectacularly. "Tom Keen" had outplayed him, and that almost never happened. He was smart, effective, and willing to do whatever it took to achieve his objectives. His knowledge of Berlin was yet another attraction. If Tom could be turned, he would be an incredible asset, and now Red was supremely confident he had the right leverage to sway him.

"What similarities?"

"The forger told me who you'd bought the passports for. One for you, one for Lizzie, and one for the baby. You were making plans to run away with her. You were trying to protect her. There we have some common ground." Tom gave a derisive bark of laughter that was both unexpected and unwelcome.

"You're trying to protect her? Really? Since you've come into her life she'd nearly died half a dozen times. From where I sit there is no greater threat to her safety than you." Tom's eyes, which had betrayed him as he'd watched Lizzie leave, were fixed on Red in the same manner a hawk watched a rabbit. The truth suddenly became abundantly clear.

"Which is the real reason you're here isn't it? You plan to kill me in order to protect her."

"Your man, Dembe searched me very thoroughly." Not exactly a denial. A man like Tom could kill him any number of ways without the use of a traditional weapon.

"I'm sure he did, but you're a very resourceful man, Mr. Keen. In the interest of full disclosure I admit I may not have strictly adhered to my side of our agreement either." Red was in fact carrying a revolver in his pocket, the same one he'd used to shoot Diane. Red wondered if a bullet would stop the man sitting across from him. There was something in Tom's eyes, a look that he all knew too well. This was a man who believed he had nothing left to lose. The question was: What was stopping Tom from making his move? Perhaps he hadn't made up his mind after all. That meant there was still time to persuade Tom. It was time to get to the 'heart' of the issue, as it were, "Are you in love with Lizzie?" For the first time since Lizzie left, Tom blinked.

"What?"

"It's a fairly simply question."

"She was my target." Deflection, yet again. The man was a professional, and yet he had made such a fundamental mistake, falling in love with his target. Human nature was such a strange thing for spies. It was what they exploited and yet, they themselves were ultimately no different from the marks.

"That's not what I asked."

"Why do you even care? You sent a man into my house to gut me. You sent the FBI after me, then the Metro PD. You use Wujing and the Alchemist to track down Jolene or Lucy or whatever her name was all so you could expose me and destroy my life." His life. Not his cover, not his mission. His life. Red needed to keep pushing if he wanted to meet the real Tom Keen.

"You seem to be under the mistaken impression that this was about you. This is about Lizzie." Earlier Red thought he'd seen some reaction when he'd used Liz's nickname.

"Stop calling her Lizzie! You don't have the right. She might think you're some kind of guardian angel, but we both know the truth. You are plague on her life. If you hadn't shown up, none of this would be happening! I would be home in bed with my wife, and our baby in the next room!" It was heartbreaking, in a way, that Tom had allowed himself to imagine that fantasy as a reality. Sadly that life would never have been Lizzie's, with or without him.

"You're not that naïve Tom. You've known since you saw that scar that this isn't only about me. You never told them about it did you?" Tom shook his head slowly, confirming Red's suspicion. It made sense. If Berlin had known, Liz would have been abducted three years ago. "You didn't tell them, because you fell in love with her. That's why you had the passports made. It's why you didn't sleep with Jolene. It's why you killed her when you realized I was after her. They would have extracted you and sent someone else. You were afraid they'd find out the truth." So many actions, seemingly unrelated, but ultimately tying back to the same truth. This man before loved Lizzie, perhaps even more than his alter ego ever did. Red slowly reached into his jacket pocket and removed a stuffed folder. "In this packet are new passports, and a bank account number containing the amount we discussed. You can get in my jet and have the pilot take you wherever you'd like to go. You can disappear. You're resourceful, intelligent, you might be able to hide from your people. Or…." He let the sentence hang to see if Tom took the bait.

"Or what?" Hooked.

"Or you can come work for me. I have a job and I need someone I can trust to do it." Tom Keen raised an eyebrow.

"And you trust me?" The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Unless of course he was just another enemy. The trick was knowing the difference.

"Within the bounds of this assignment, yes. Our interests are aligned."

"Lizzie." It was a statement rather than a question, but Red inclined his head all the same. Tom's stared long and hard at the packet that contained his freedom. Red was a man of his word. If Tom was the type of man who went for the easy out, then he would be useless as an ally. Tom finally raised his eyes to Red's. "What's the job?"


	4. Sucker Punch (Liz's POV)

Jab, jab, right cross. Liz's fist hit the heavy bag with a satisfying thud. She bounced back and repeated the combination. She'd been at the gym for over an hour and she was finally starting to feel some of her anger abate. It was amazing what exercise and a little creative visualization could do. She had plenty of imaginary targets after the events of that morning.

Reddington had called Liz multiple times both last night and this morning, but she'd chosen not to answer. As much as she'd wanted to know what intelligence he'd extracted, she hadn't forgiven him for the previous night. Springing Tom on her had been bad enough, but to suggest that she was somehow to blame for being taken by the man…well she'd hadn't been in the mood to talk to him

Liz had actually been looking forward to another day of being desk bound. She had shuffling papers since she'd confessed to Cooper about her and Red's side mission regarding Tom. He'd been less than thrilled, particularly since Tom had gotten away.

She hadn't been too worried about long term ramifications. Her suspension would only last until the next name came up on Reddington's list. It had to be frustrating to Cooper to have two people on his team over which he had practically no authority. She'd sympathized with his position, at least until a few hours ago, when the thrall Reddington had Cooper under came back to bite her in the ass. She'd known when she was called into his office that something was up, but she'd had no idea what she was in for.

_"Please sit, Agent Keen." Cooper was being polite. Liz couldn't tell if that was a good or bad sign. _

_ "Agent Scott, if you don't mind sir." She'd been correcting people around the office for the past two weeks, but it appeared habit was a hard thing to break. _

_ "Of course. I brought you in here because I wanted you to be the first on the team to hear this outside of me." This definitely wasn't good. If she was being pulled aside to hear news before anyone else it meant 1) it was bad and 2) it was particularly bad for her. _

_ "Hear what, sir?" What could have happened? Her father was dead, and her husband was a spy on lam. What other things could possible go wrong in her life?_

"_Has Reddington spoken to you this morning?" Her heart sped up. Reddington. She'd left him alone with Tom last night. Had something happened to him?_

"_No, sir. He called, but I haven't returned it yet." Was he hurt? Was he…she couldn't even bring herself to think it._

"_Yes, he mentioned that. He also requested that I pass along his sincerest apologizes that he couldn't deliver this news in person." Cooper's response calmed her internal panic, but left her as confused as ever._

"_What news?" What did Red have to share that couldn't wait until she called him back?_

"_According to the terms of his agreement, Reddington is entitled to two private security details of his choosing. Ever since Luli's passing he's made do with Dembe, but he now wants to hire a replacement." Cooper stopped and waited, seemingly assessing her expression. Liz had no idea what he was looking for. This wasn't exactly earth-shattering news for her. She was confident Red would pick someone trustworthy, or at least loyal to him, and beyond that she didn't really care. She's had never exchanged a single word with Luli and no more than a few dozen with Dembe._

"_I'm sorry sir, I don't see how this connects to me." What did it matter to her who Red's new shadow was? _

"_Because the man he wants to hire is Thomas Vincent Keen." Liz sat in silence for ten full seconds. Her first reaction was that she'd misheard, but when Cooper didn't correct himself, she was forced to abandon that theory. Her second thought was that this was a belated April Fool's prank or perhaps a hazing ritual. Cooper's apologetic, but firm countenance seemed to reject those options as well. This was really happening._

"_No." It was unbelievable. It was unthinkable._

"_Agent Keen-" Her two-faced, lying husband, here, every day, at the Post Office? This only place where she was supposed to be safe from the painful memories of her shattered life!_

"_No, you can't be serious!" How could Cooper be considering this? It was insanity._

"_Agent Keen, lower your voice." Lower her voice? What was she, a child throwing a temper tantrum over eating her vegetables?!_

"_IT'S AGENT SCOTT!" Why was Cooper being so dense! The man would bring them nothing but pain! Wasn't she living proof of that?!_

"_Agent Scott, I realize this is difficult for you, but I have to make decisions based on what I think is best for this country as a whole. Reddington has made it abundantly clear that he will not bend on this issue." So that was it? It was decided and it didn't matter what she had to say? She was expected to…what exactly? Suck it up? Be a team player? Not this time._

"_Difficult? Finding out someone put cameras in my house and spied on my every move; that was difficult. My father dying in a hospital while I was busy working a case; that was difficult. Not adopting baby that I've wanted for so long; that was difficult. Being nearly shot, blown up, and melted into chemical stew; DIFFICULT. I've put up with all of it, because what we do is important to this country, but I have reached my limit. To hell with you and to hell with Reddington."_

Liz had left the Post Office, stopped by her house to change her clothes, and headed straight to the gym to work out her aggressions. She figured it was probably a better career move than slugging her boss. Jab, jab, right cross. The bag rocked with the force of her blow and she had to stop and steady it.

"Picturing anyone in particular?" Just when she was starting to cool down a little, the true source of her anger had to arrive. No, that wasn't quite right. The true source of her anger was Tom, Reddington was just a close second.

"What do you think?" She started the combination again without looking at him.

"I think you need to stop ignoring my phone calls. The day may come when not picking up might cost you your life." Life? What life?

"My life? You must be confusing me with someone else, because I don't have a life. I am puppet whose strings you yank in whatever way pleases you." Reddington talked a lot about protecting her, but his methods left a lot to be desired.

"Lizzie, I didn't make this decision lightly." It was good to know he actually thought about the emotional trauma this would cost her before choosing to inflict it.

"But you did make it. You chose to put that man back in my life, after everything he did to me." It was unfathomable that after months of hearing nothing from Red except how Tom shouldn't be trusted, that Reddington was foisting him upon her in this way.

"Yes. I know you don't believe me, but this is in your best interest." She was so sick of the patronizing bullshit. Anytime Red did something she didn't like, or refused to answer a question, it was always the same line of crap: It was all for her own good, and she needed to trust him.

"You're right, I don't believe you." How could Reddington possibly think that Tom's presence in her life would be anything other than completely destructive?

"Lizzie, the people Tom used to work will come for you. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but some day they WILL come. I intend to do everything in my power to keep you safe from them." Anything of course except explain why these people were after her in the first place.

"And how is Tom going to keep me safe?" She would love to hear this rationalization.

"He knows Berlin, how they think, how they operate. He can protect you from them." What was he talking about?

"Protect me? He's your bodyguard." How was Red's private security supposed to protect her?

"Officially speaking, yes. Unofficially, he's YOUR bodyguard." Liz struggled to process that statement.

"What does that mean?" Red was hiring TOM to protect her. RED was hiring TOM to protect her. RED was hiring TOM to PROTECT HER. No matter how many times she repeated it to herself, it still didn't compute.

"That his job is to ensure your safety at all times. Here." Reddington handed her a small rectangular box that she hadn't even realized he'd been holding. She opened the box and found a simple, but elegant woman's watch inside. Naturally it was exactly to her taste. She guessed it had cost at least five times what she'd consider spending on an accessary.

"If you think giving me a present is going to make this better-" Red waved a hand to cut her off.

"It's a panic button. You press the crown if you're in distress. It's also equipped with GPS. Tom will know where you are at all times." That wasn't exactly a comforting thought.

"Don't you think that's a bit of a risk? What's to stop him from selling me out to his old bosses?" If she'd learned anything about her fake husband, it was that he had no sense of loyalty what so ever. How do you trust a man like that?

"I have complete confidence in Tom's commitment to this assignment. I wouldn't be doing this otherwise. I told you before, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?" That was the question, wasn't it? Reddington was secretive. He was a criminal and a murderer. He was a self-admitted monster, and yet he was other things as well. He was the man who told her the truth, whether or not she wanted to hear it. He was the man she'd gone to for comfort whenever darkness touched her life. He was the man who spent days rebuilding a music box to comfort her in her darkest hour. He was the man who'd held her as she cried. Did she trust him? For better or for worse, the answer was yes. God help her.


End file.
